


You Missed My Heart

by borys



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M, Past Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:40:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22276474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borys/pseuds/borys
Summary: Option A; something sensible
Relationships: Michael De Santa/Trevor Philips
Comments: 4
Kudos: 64





	You Missed My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> you missed my heart, you missed my heart  
> you got me good; i knew you would  
> but you missed my heart, you missed my heart

As soon as he gets home, he takes his off clothes and, while still in his underwear, shoves them deep in the garbage. His hands are slick and bloody, leaving sticky red stains on everything he touches. Nobody is home, and he remembers. 

_“You want me to come over? Without the wife in sight? You gonna fuck me?” Trevor’s voice was rough, crackling from bad phone connection. He was in Saskatchewan, visiting his brother in prison. “As reparations for the drive over, of course.”_

_Michael scoffed. “I need someone to take help me care of this fucking baby.” He looked over where Jimmy, always colicky and fussing, was on the verge of bursting into sobs for no discernable reason. “He likes you.”_

_“I don’t think it’s that he likes me.” Trevor said, and paused thoughtfully. “I think he just doesn’t like you.”_

_“Thanks, buddy. You know, don’t even bother coming over, if you’re gonna be an asshole.”_

_“No, no, no. I’ll be there, a couple hours maybe, with lube and some duct tape. Not for Jimmy.”_

_Trevor hung up._

He catches a view of himself walking up the stairs, shirtless and ruffled, and he remembers. 

_“God, you’re something.”_

_Trevor ran his hands up and down Michael’s chest and stomach, looking absolutely enthralled. The hotel bed sheets felt rough against his back, and the weight of Trevor sitting on his lap was not unsubstantial, but he was mostly distracted by his growing hard-on._

_“Are you gonna stop soon?” Michael asked, amused and flattered, if not a little embarrassed, by Trevors admiration._

_“Could do this all day, sweetheart.” His voice was sugary, low and rough, like the voice he put on for the prostitutes they picked up._

He passed by Tracey’s room, pink and perfumed and stacked high with nostalgia, and he remembers.

_It’s Tracey’s 4th birthday, and Trevor showed up 2 hours before the party, a backseat full of the most ridiculous presents Michael had ever seen. He’s lucky Tracey is at breakfast with Amanda, because her little heart might have exploded._

_“How the fuck did you get the cash for this?” Michael asked, helping him drag a box that came up to his knees, shoddily wrapped, into the living room._

_Trevor gave him a quirky smile, giving the box one last push up the rickety trailer stairs. “I work in mysterious ways, Mikey. And what else am I gonna spend my money on?”_

_“Drugs? Whores?” Michael suggested, standing up and cracking his back. “Ugh, I’m getting too old for this shit.”_

_“And you look just the same as the day I met you.” Trevor said, before quickly saying, “A fat piece of shit.”_

He passes by the bathroom, and he remembers.

_They’re in the shower together, two weeks after they met, in the worst motel they’ve ever stayed in._

_They had originally gotten in the same shower in a sexy way, Trevor planning to drop on his knees as soon as the water burst on, but apparently the hot water didn't work anymore, and the owners decided hot water wasn’t necessary in Winnipeg, in January._

_That spewing burst of ice-cold, stinging water from the rusty socket made them both draw into themselves, too busy trying to stay warm to feel each other up, or even look at each other._

_“I hate this fucking dump.” Trevor said, and yanked back the shower curtain. He soggily climbed out, not even towelling off and leaving wet footprints on the tile. They had just gotten back from a score, and those wet footprints were tinged baby pink, like raw skin, with blood._

_Michael tried to wait it out, but eventually just turned the water off and dried himself, stepping into the main room to find Trevor naked on the bed. He had his face pressed into Michaels fleece jackets, fast asleep, loosely holding a bottle of Jagermeister._

He passes by Jimmys bedroom, TV flickering, and he remembers.

_Trevor and Jimmy had a game that scared Amanda shitless._

_Basically, Trevor would let 3 or 4 year old Jimmy climb on his shoulders, and would stumble around in an almost-drunken manner, Jimmy screaming and whooping as Trevor got so, so close to dropping him every time._

_Of course, since Jimmy loved it, she relented, and would just bite her nails on the couch as she watched the most mentally unstable man she knew carrying her son like a sack of potatoes._

_One night, after Amanda went to bed and while Trevor was staying over for a few days, Michael restlessly went to the living room to watch tv and found Trevor with Jimmy in his lap, watching some colorful and irritating cartoon while Jimmy snoozed soundly._

_“Hi, Mikey.” Trevor said, patting Jimmy on the back. “He couldn’t sleep and was bothering the fuck out of me.”_

_“So your solution was to watch TV?”_

_“Better than forcing him to sleep outside on the ground, don’t you think?” Trevor said back sharply, with such injure that Michael could imagine baby Trevor being flung into the Canada cold by his arm._

_“Well, give him to me, I’ll put him in bed.”_

_Trevor did that, being so gentle with the sleeping Jimmy that Michael almost didn’t recognize the man in front of him._

_When Michael came back in the living room, Trevor was sniffling a little bit._

_“You okay, man?” Michael asked, sensitively to avoid causing Trevor to rage on him. Trevor was a crier, but refused to admit it._

_“Fuck off.”_

Michael slouches into his room, and sees Amanda’s high heels against the wall. He remembers.

_He has three fingers in Trevor’s ass, and the other hand wrapped around his throat._

_He had told himself that last time would be the LAST time. That he wouldn’t give in to Trevor’s mouth around his dick, early in the morning before the sun rose. That he wouldn’t let Trevor back him into a corner again until all he could do was touch and grab._

_But he knows that his will is not strong, and that Trevor can slip his mind between his fingers whenever he wants, and that it’s a miracle he hasn’t reduced him to mush completely._

_But Trevor came back to the hotel room at 9am, a red dress, so tight that it wouldn’t zip up in the back, slipping off of his shoulder. Combat boots, hair sticking straight up, dirt caked into his knees. Michael wanted so bad that his blood rushed backwards._

_So there they were, pressed against the floor, Trevor mewling like a feral cat, one shoe on and one shoe off._

_“I look better in a dress than Crystal?” This was back when Amanda was Crystal, before Tracey was even pressing Amanda’s stomach outwards, making her swell._

_“Shut up.” Michael said, and squeezed harder on his throat, which earned a full body twitch from the man underneath him. When he took his fingers away to unbutton his pants, Trevor whined._

_A rush of something, horrid and powerful, filled Michael. “You’re a fucking whore, you know that? Why are you such a fucking whore?”_

_Trevor batted his eyelashes and told him of the way he had been sodomized by his stepfather at some gruesome age._

Michael falls face-first onto his bed, and with the expensive Italian sheets rubbing against his face, he remembers.

_“You’re mine, you know?? If you ever fucking die, I’m killing myself. And if you try to kill me, you’ll die too. I’ll come back and ruin your shit from the grave, Mikey. I’m always gonna be in your fucking head.”_

**Author's Note:**

> the only thing i want to talk about anymore is young trevor


End file.
